Bread and Circuses
by M. Rykov
Summary: Exactly one year after the September 11 Attacks, Alfred F. Jones finds Livia Galloway, a mysterious young girl whom he immediately takes under his wing as his little sister. Little did he know that the small, innocent child he had so lovingly raised would mature into one of the most hated and bloodthirsty nations the world has ever known.
1. Prologue

_Hey there! Just wanted to say that the fanfic we have here is (obviously) about how the nation Panem from "The Hunger Games" came to be. Reviews and ratings are always nice._

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own anything belonging to Hetalia or The Hunger Games. The elements of those two fandoms belong entirely to their creators. The only thing here that belongs to me is the OC I made for the personification of Panem.

_Enjoy!_

-M. Rykov

* * *

The sun had setted over two hours ago.

Yet, there were still people huddled against the familiar site where the Towers had taken their fall. Candles were still lit and American flags were still held aloft as people began to peel off, their feet hurting from standing for so long, their lungs and throats aching from their tears, their skin caking from the cold.

Some still refused to leave, drawing shawls over their faces and holding the candles closer to themselves in an effort to warm up. Alfred stared up at the sky, hardly able to believe that the Towers were no longer there. It had been a year since that awful day, but the wound was still raw. The New York landscape seemed so empty without the Towers, so sad and mocking, like a butterfly without its wings.

He looked down and heaved a sigh, his breath misting before him. The crowd began to thin out, the persistent New Yorkers heading back to the comfort of their homes, leaving Alfred alone in the vast expanse of icy asphalt and cement. Alfred had never felt so alone; he had never felt as small and insignificant as he did now, standing here alone in the middle of the night with the lights of New York as his only comfort. He sighed again, pulling his signature bomber jacket closer around him, readying himself for the walk back to his apartment, until a small sound stopped him.

He immediately snapped to attention, the sound being the high cough of a young child. He whirled around to see a small figure off a few feet in front of him, their back turned to him and facing north, staring off ahead into nothing. He could tell the child was a young girl because of the long hair and the petite little frame. He approached the child slowly, not wanting to frighten her as he came up as an indistinctive figure behind her. Before he could put a hand on her shoulder, she suddenly turned to face him.

Alfred was taken back, startled by the little girl's wide, piercing gray eyes. She looked up at him boldly, her eyes grim, holding all the authority of an adult. Her little round face was pale except for her cheeks, bitten pink by the cold. Strands of coarse black hair flew in threads across her face. Alfred leaned down at her eye level.

"Hi," he said quietly, his usual loud voice reduced to a small whisper in the mourning cold. She blinked up at him as a response.

"Are you okay?" he asked, trying to get at least one intelligible scentence. The little girl only nodded. And then she smiled softly.

"I'm okay," she said, her voice high and scratchy with the ice in the air. She coughed into her hands before rubbing them together. "Just a bit cold."

Alfred only nodded. "Are you lost?"

The girl shook her head, looking up at Alfred with those wide gray eyes

"No. Not really. I've been figuring out a lot about who I am."

Now why did those words sound familiar?

_Lately I've been figuring a lot about who I am._

Alfred made a small smile and put his hand out to touch the top of her head. "Really now?"

The little girl nodded eagerly. "Yeah, it's taken a while, but now I know for sure."

Alfred furrowed his brow playfully. "And who exactly are you then?"

This time, the little girl's eyes brightened, intensifying her strange colored eyes and lightening them against the city's sad nighttime hour.

"Livia Galloway," she said sweetly. "And who are you?"

Alfred smiled, albeit sadly. "I'm Alfred F. Jones."

Livia nodded and looked Alfred up and down, scanning him. "You're big."

Alfred let out a laugh. Not one of those strained, thin laughs that he had been so accustomed to as of late, but a genuine laugh that made his voice boom and echo throughout the empty courtyard. He wasn't sure why he lapsed into such a loud bout of hysterics because of the small, congenial comment; perhaps it was because he had gone through so many kept emotions today, perhaps it was because these past few days of darkness had been something he had been eager to end. But whatever it was, he had been thankful for it. He hated being so miserable for such a long period of time.

He looked down at the child with dancing gray eyes and beamed at her as his laughter died on his lips.

"Well, Livia, you just made my day."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. I: A Place Called Home

_Hi again! Yes, I know it's been a while since the last chapter, but it's been a rather busy week (and it's only going to get busier). I was hoping to publish a new chapter every week, but with all this other stuff going on (academics and such) it may be extended to about every 12 to 13 days or so. BUT, I am determined to finish! Thanks, and enjoy this second chapter. _

-M. Rykov

* * *

It had been quite sometime since Alfred had felt this light. It seemed as if Livia brought out the best in him, with her curious eyes that were still far too big for her face and her rosy cheeks and her plump lips that were set in a wide O of amazement as she stared around his apartment. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get her asking a million questions at once.

"What's this?" she asked.

"That's a Drinking Bird," he answered, chuckling softly as she gently tipped the bird's head forward and giggled when its beak fell towards the small shot of water.

"What's this?" she asked again, zooming to the other side of the room and stroking the needle of one of Alfred's gramophones from the 1950's.

"That's a record player."

She paused, staring at it intently for a moment. Alfred thought she had been just about done with speeding across the apartment, but his assumptions were soon proven wrong when she was standing in front of a movie poster he had bought a few years prior.

"What's this?"

"A movie poster from 'Saving Private Ryan'."

She tilted her head to the side questioningly, gazing with a quizzical brow at Tom Hank's determined expression and the regal silhouette of a lone soldier walking against the golden horizon, his weapon in hand.

"What's it about?" she probed.

Alfred grimaced. Was it deemed appropriate to tell a small child the details of a gory picture set in the midst of the bloodiest wars in all of history? He quickly dispelled the long pause by clearing his throat.

"It's, um..." He felt strange not knowing what to say. "It's about...war." He adjusted his glasses as an excuse to busy his hands. "Terrible war."

She continued staring at the poster with blank eyes.

"But it's also about hope," he said hurriedly, not wanting to crush Livia's endearing innocence. From before, she had been so curious and chatty, now she was still, completely quiet except for the soft, panting breaths squeezing from her small lungs.

"Hope?" she said.

"Yeah." Alfred nodded, pointing to the soldier marching against the sun's low light. "Hope."

Livia blinked twice before stretching out her tiny hand towards the bottom of the poster, spreading her dimpled fingers along the altered golden glow peeking from below the horizon. Alfred looked at the girl, puzzled, wondering what was going through that little head of hers.

"What do ya think?" he asked her softly. She kept her hand there for a moment longer before pulling back, using the same hand to rub at her left eye.

"I don't know."

Just what he thought. She was too young to understand anything about hope and war yet, too young to see how the two could go hand-in-hand so easily, how one could easily dominate over the other with just a simple act of kindness or the sudden shot of a rifle. Alfred suddenly felt a pang of nostalgia, saddened that he could never think that way again. The events from last September 11th had completely shattered any form of pure innocence he had left. Yes, there had been the Revolutionary War with Arthur, as well as the Second World War and the Cold War with Ivan, but there had never been anything with such a heart-wrenching impact as when those two doomed planes rammed into the sides of the Towers in those fateful hours on that one sunny Tuesday morning. He wished he didn't have to know anything about war or misery or anger or grief, he wished he could be just like Livia and not know anything about it all. He longed for those days when he and Arthur would stroll through the grassy fields and stare at the scattered buffalos as Arthur told him stories of King Arthur's Knights at the Round Table. The days where there had been no resentment or conflict. Everything was perfect.

Everything was paradise. But then he grew up, realizing he no longer needed Arthur by his side everyday to tell him what to do. He became independent. A nation. And with that title had came the natural anticipation of war and the expected desertion of any childish innocence. The anticipation of conflict and greed and prosperity. All of it came down to one price, one price that took a damn lot of awful things to pay. At times he hated it, times like these when the birth of a new dark anniversary blossomed and his people gathered freely under the stars and the roofs of their houses with their families and friends, keeping quiet as to not stir any emotional demons while they remembered the hope that had suddenly disappeared on that dreadful day, as they remembered the lives it took with it.

He glanced down at Livia, taking in her silken black hair, her plump cheeks, her large eyes, her empty gaze waiting to be filled with anything that could keep her interest. It baffled him that he had once looked like that: wondering, questioning, curious. The early days by himself sure were scary, but he would wake up every day with a new outlook, positive of the new adventures he thought he was ready to live through. Looking at Livia, he was reminded of what true beauty was. Only a child could look at a war poster and say they didn't know what to think of it. Only a child like Livia could look at the world with true beauty despite the ugliness that tainted it every day.

She suddenly tore her eyes away from the poster and looked up at him.

"Do you have any food?"

Alfred tried not to, but he couldn't help bursting into laughter. Only a child could take a profound moment and change it into something comical.

"Yeah, kitchen's this-a-way! Follow me," he said, regaining a bit of his usual happy self in just one short moment with Livia.

.

He knew he shouldn't have done this, but he couldn't just leave Livia alone in New York by herself. When Livia had woken up, confused and bleary-eyed, asking why Alfred was leaving with those bewildered gray eyes, he swore he could feel his heart melting. He couldn't resist taking her into his arms and carrying her out of the apartment and onto a plane to the World Conference. He was worried that she would start crying during take-off, but she did just the opposite, actually cheering when the plane soared and bumped into the air.

She beamed up at him with sparkling eyes, absolutely fearless as she peered out the window and onto the dotted grids of land below, pressing her hand to the window whenever she saw a bulbous white cloud pass by. She would tug at Alfred's sleeve and point out all the different shapes the clouds had, how one looked like a fish and the other a boat when it had only looked like a heaping mass of white cotton to Alfred. Nonetheless, he nodded and he smiled, laughing whenever she laughed, his heart growing warmer with every second she smiled up at him.

When the plane had landed, she seemed rather disappointed. She had been enjoying the "ride" and was a bit deflated that it ended so soon, but when Alfred promised her that they'd be back on the plane in a matter of days, she immediately brightened. When stepping off the jet, he grabbed her hand, her tiny hand dwarfed in his.

"Stay close to me, 'kay?"

She seemed rather confused for a moment before nodding and heading off the jet with him and into the shiny black car. Livia glanced out the tinted window from time to time, going on and on about how pretty the scenery was or how soft the seats were. She managed to talk with Alfred about everything, yet at the same time nothing, switching from a tree she had just seen pass by the car window to a cat she had spotted in an alleyway the day before he found her. He listened to her ramble on, laughing and smiling at how she spoke so clearly with such excitement and happiness. At times, he would look out the window, taking note of all the familiar little landmarks that signified that they were nearing their destination. He suddenly felt something small and warm brush over his hand.

"Why do you look so sad?" she asked, genuinely concerned. He looked down at her small face, her furrowed brows. He smiled sadly, touched deeply by her alarm, and reached out to pet her hair.

"Ah, it's nothing. Just have a lot of stuff on my mind, that's all."

She tilted her head. "Stuff like what?"

He thought before answering. "Well...I have a lot of stuff to do and a lot of people to take care of."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because they depend on me," he replied.

"Why?" she repeated.

"Because I'm a hero," he said with a smile, feeling uplifted when she smiled back at him, surprised that she suddenly unbuckled her seatbelt and came forward, wrapping her little arms around him. There was a moment before he could return her embrace, enveloping her entirely in his bomber jacket. She pressed her cheek against his chest and he could feel her soft breath.

"Can I be a hero, too?" she inquired rather shyly, the shyest Alfred had heard the child speak. It was uncharacteristic for the chatty little girl, but also undeniably adorable. He came up and stroked her hair softly.

"Yeah, sure you can." He gently pulled back her shoulders to get a look at her face. He had no idea where this child came from and he had no idea why she had suddenly stumbled into his life, but he knew he never wanted her to leave. "You can be a hero with me."

At that, she beamed up at him. She flung herself into his arms again, this time squeezing him with all her strength. Alfred laughed at her supple strength, but felt positively moved at the unadulterated admiration she expressed. She nuzzled her cheek into his chest, closing her eyes.

"You're my hero," she whispered.

Alfred's entire being brightened with light and warmed with happiness. Yes, Alfred never wanted her to leave.

.

"Oh, and who is this little one?" Elizaveta had asked when she greeted Alfred, staring down at Livia with motherly eyes. Alfred brought a beaming Livia to his side.

"This is Livia!" Alfred said rather loudly, clamping his hand down onto Livia's slender shoulder twice. "I found her yesterday, ain't she just adorable?"

Elizaveta leaned down to Livia's eye level. "She is." She reached out and stroked her cheek, Livia giggling quietly in response. Elizaveta sighed tenderly. "Oh, Alfred, she's so cute!"

Alfred nodded like a proud father. "Isn't she?"

"Where did you find her?" Elizaveta asked.

Alfred's expression darkened slightly and his smile faltered as he remembered the sorrow from the day before. He quickly hid his grief with another blinding grin. "New York," was the simple answer that was given. After a few more moments of idle talk, Elizaveta walked away, readying herself for the meeting.

"She was nice," Livia stated sweetly. Alfred only nodded, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

"Yeah. Now listen, Livia…" Alfred knelt down to the girl's eye level. "There will be some people here who…who won't really…who probably won't be as nice as Elizaveta."

"Why?" Livia's innocence was so painful to deny.

"Well, because…they aren't used to me with a little kid. But, if you're really quiet, then they'll be nice to you."

Livia was solemn, but she nodded in agreement as Alfred gently squeezed her hand again and walked with her into the conference room.

Luckily, no one except Arthur was there. Alfred was a bit astonished to find that Ludwig wasn't there yet. Usually, he was a whole half-hour early. Alfred motioned again for Livia to be quiet, who nodded and screwed her mouth shut, a grim look of determination wrinkling her forehead and pouting her lips. She looked like she had just been given a military order. Alfred managed to refrain from laughing and sat at his usual spot, pulling the little girl into his lap. Arthur looked up from his newspaper and tea and made to give Alfred his standard nod of greeting before suddenly spotting the youngling's head poking from the edge of the table, taking a rapid double take at the new face. Arthur's eyes widened.

"Alfred, why exactly do you have someone's child with you?"

"Hm? Oh!" Alfred tried remaining casual. "This ain't anyone's kid, this here is Livia."

Livia softened her expression and waved at Arthur, who smiled quickly before returning his attention to Alfred.

"Yes, but why do you have her with you?" Now Arthur began to sound angry instead of surprised, though Alfred didn't seem to take notice.

"Because I found her."

"So you just _took_ her! What about her parents, Alfred? Ever thought of that? I swear, you could be so bloody _clueless_ at times!" Arthur boomed loudly, but to Alfred's surprise Livia remained impervious instead of recoiling, her eyes fixed intently on what seemed to be Arthur's eyebrows.

"Whoa! Chillax, Artie. I told you she wasn't anyone's kid. I found her alone in New York and she was cold, so I brought her to my place."

Arthur exhaled slowly, his patience wearing thin. "Alfred, we've been through this, my name is _Arthur_. Now listen, I...I don't mean to be offensive, but—" He dropped his voice to a whisper "—_why is she here?_"

Livia still didn't respond, her eyes still intently glued to Arthur.

"Because…" Alfred looked down at her briefly, admiring her vacant expression before looking back up at Arthur. "She didn't want to be alone."

Arthur's scowl faltered, but didn't recede. "Still, I don't particularly understand why you have her."

This time, Livia reacted, looking away from above Arthur's eyes and finally connecting his stare with hers.

"Because he's my hero." She turned away from Arthur then and wrapped her arms around Alfred's neck, leaning her cheek on his shoulder. Once again, Alfred was taken back by the small child's actions and had no idea how to respond. It was just like this in the car when she had held him so lovingly, as if she had known him for years. He glanced over to Arthur, who was watching in utter bewilderment. Alfred felt no other impulse then to reach up and return the embrace, once again profoundly moved by Livia's actions.

Arthur leaned forward. "Alfred."

"Yeah?" Alfred responded inaudibly.

Arthur lowered his voice to an incoherent mumble. "Are you...going to keep her?"

Alfred paused briefly, opening his mouth to speak, but was suddenly cut off by a scuffle of numerous footsteps and a curt voice.

"Now that everyone is here, it seems the World Conference can convene." Ludwig's voice was distinguishable from the other muffled garble that surrounded the large space. Soon, the conference room was filled and every seat was filled with their designated owner. Some were taking sips of water, others conversing with their neighbors, other sitting very quietly, not bothering to look over at Alfred and the little girl clinging to his neck. Alfred readied himself and his official title as the United States of America, mentally preparing himself for the meeting and its candidates. Ludwig was about to continue with the typical introduction before shooting a glance at Alfred's side of the room, his words suddenly stopped in his throat and his eyes widening at the small figure in Alfred's arms. His silence caused everyone to turn into Alfred's direction.

Alfred looked up and beamed broadly under his colleague's scrutinizing stares. "Hi."

Ludwig blinked once before speaking. "America...what—?"

Alfred rose up a hand in self-defense, still cradling Livia in the other. "I did not steal her, I swear!"

Feliciano looked over. "Oh look, a _bambina_!"

"I wasn't accusing you of stealing her," Ludwig cut in sharply, throwing Feliciano a rather irritated glare as he was still staring adoringly at the little girl. "It's only that the last time we met you didn't have a _child_ in your lap."

"I didn't even know you were married, _Amérique_," Francis said lewdly and rather disappointingly. Alfred raised an eyebrow before his signature smile broke out on his face.

"Everyone, this is Livia!" He said, turning the small child in his lap to face the crowd of onlookers. "I found her yesterday in New York."

Livia's large eyes took in every face, though she didn't smile until she connected her gaze with a rather enthusiastic Italian. Feliciano waved at her and Livia waved back, boisterously wriggling her hand with a wide smile on her face. It was as if she was veiled with a shroud of light. She was suddenly the bold, outspoken child Alfred had found back in New York.

"Hi!" She chirped.

Feliciano swooned over her just as Elizaveta did. Francis couldn't hold back a large smirk.

"Why, she's adorable," he said, leaning closer to get a better look at the girl. "Where do you come from, _mon chèr_?"

The girl's eyes were no longer wondrous; instead they were confused as she tilted her head to the side, her ink hair gathering at her shoulders. "Umm…"

There was a long pause before Arthur interjected.

"Well, if you found her in New York, she's obviously an American."

"Yes, but she could be a new nation on the rise," Francis pointed out. Arthur gave a slight roll of the eyes.

"I highly doubt that."

"Hey, don't talk about her like she's not here!" Alfred snapped rather defensively. The fierce tone he suddenly took on was enough to make Arthur and Francis turn their heads. They were shocked to find Alfred holding Livia tightly to his chest his eyes flashing dangerously.

Arthur raised his eyebrows in amazement. Who knew the unruly American could be so paternal?

A high voice interrupted the stare down. "I'm going to be a hero someday."

All eyes turned towards the girl in Alfred's lap as she turned to gaze up at Alfred.

"Just like Alfred." She looked up at him with pure warmth and admiration, the one thing that only children were capable of in so cruel of a world. For what seemed to be the hundredth time today, Alfred felt his heart tremble at such undiluted adoration. Besides Arthur taking care of him as a young boy, he had never felt so appreciated, so adored, so _loved_. He then began to realize why Arthur had put up with all his antics, all his tantrums and all his fears, as a child. At the end of the day, children were the ones who loved you without any fault. Unconditionally, irrevocably, immaculately.

She leaned her soft head on his shoulder and he didn't fight back the instinct to put his arms around her, to hold her close to him and never let him go. At that moment, he didn't care who saw or who giggled at his uncharacteristic tenderness, he only wanted to hold Livia, to feel her small arms around him with all that childish warmth and affection.

He only wanted her.

Ludwig cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Well, we'll touch on _you_—" he gestured towards Alfred and Livia "—another time. But now, we need to discuss more important matters..."

.

Alfred breathed a loud sigh of relief when the meeting drew to a close. He had been aware of the rising chaos through out the world, the anarchy, the lawlessness, but he had absolutely no interest in any of that. The only thing he was interested in the entire meeting was the little girl in his arms.

Livia had managed to fall asleep during the meeting, her cheeks plump in sleep and her little lip like a pink shell. Alfred smiled contently as he carried her out of the conference room, holding her small back gently as he tried not to wake her with his unsteady stride.

"America, wait!" A voice called.

Alfred turned to see Arthur rushing up the corridor. He straightened his tie quickly before falling into pace with Alfred.

"Uh, dude," Alfred said. "The meeting's over, you don't need to call me 'America.'"

"Right, yes, I know," Arthur said impatiently. "I guess it's just a slip of the tongue. We _have_ been in that stuffy room for over two hours, you know."

Alfred chuckled lightly. "Yeah, I know. I mean, look, it put Livia to sleep."

Arthur smiled softly as he glanced at the sleeping child. "Yes, so it as."

A long silence passed between them. Arthur cleared his throat, his eyes shifting uneasily towards the girl in Alfred's arms. Alfred caught him, though once he did, Arthur quickly looked away.

Alfred smirked. "Somethin' bothering ya?"

Arthur shook his head, laughing nervously. "No, nothing at all."

Another silence.

"Artie, y'know, if you don't like it that I brought Livia to the meeting, just tell me—"

"It's _Arthur_. And no, it's not that I didn't like you taking her to the meeting, it's just..."

"It's just what?" Alfred asked, gently rubbing Livia's back. "Just say it, man."

Arthur looked pointedly from the girl to Alfred again. He could have laughed at how fatherly the American was acting; he had never seen Alfred so doting. But his laughter was easily suppressed by his concern.

"A _child_, Alfred?"

Alfred looked at him, his brows knitted in total confusion. "Yeah, Arthur, a _child_. What about her?"

"Well, I'm _concerned_, Alfred."

Now Alfred was starting to get angry. "Concerned about _what_, exactly?"

Alfred didn't really mean to sound so sharp, but it didn't pass Arthur so easily.

"Calm down, Alfred!" he snapped. "I didn't mean anything ill by it, it's only—"

"What?" Alfred bit out.

"I'm concerned you won't be able to handle her," Arthur blurted out. The anger on Alfred's brow dissolved, replaced once again by confusion.

"_Can't handle her?_" He wasn't angry anymore, which Arthur was relieved of, but his perplexity only heightened his anxiety.

"Alfred, I've taken care of a child. I've taken care of _you_," he stated. "It's no easy task. A lot is depending on you, it's a huge responsibility..."

Arthur gazed at Livia's sleeping form, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"...Especially if she is a new nation on the rise."

Alfred looked at him incriminatingly. "I thought you said you didn't agree with Francis."

"I know what I said," Arthur retorted sharply. "Though still...there is a definite possibility. You did find her in the streets, didn't you? No parents, no siblings looking after her, yet she was still sure of herself?"

Alfred nodded, remembering the distant night before when the air had been icy and the girl with gray eyes had unexplainably charmed him. "Yeah..."

Arthur heaved a heavy sigh, brushing a pick of invisible dust from his lapel. "You're really going to keep her, aren't you?"

Alfred shot a stern glimpse at Arthur as he gently patted Livia's hair. He held her tight to him, careful not to crush her in her sleep, gently taking pride in how firm she had her arms around his neck, how her slow breath tickled his ear reassuringly. The answer was silently obvious to the Englishman at his side.

"Alright then, old boy." Arthur gently patted Alfred's strong shoulder. "Just know, I stand by your decisions."

Alfred stayed silent up until they reached the exit. There, he felt comfortable enough to fire a quick grin at Arthur.

"Thanks, man."

Arthur returned the smile with the utmost sincerity. "Of course."

Before Alfred could walk off to his car, Arthur's hand suddenly clamped down on Alfred's shoulder, gently pulling him back. "If you need any assistance, any at all, don't hesitate to contact me."

Alfred pulled away to see Arthur smiling lightly. "I've been through this, you know."

Alfred nodded, his smile coming back reassuringly. "Yeah, I know..."

He played with a strand of Livia's dark hair, breathed in the sweet aroma that all children possessed, felt how she nuzzled her soft face against his neck. He couldn't help a small chuckle.

"...But I don't think I need any help with this one yet, Artie."

* * *

_To be continued..._


End file.
